Random Chain of Events
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: An unexpected development off world causes Sheppard's life to hang in the balance. [COMPLETE]


AN: This was a fic start that Mandy sent me, and I hope I did it justice. The first portion was hers, I only added a few things here and there.

edited in, thank you Emma, I went over it but missed that goof! I appreciate the tip!

**A Random Chain of Events**

**Started by Mandy K**

**Written by M. N. Talbert**

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* * *

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"Let go, McKay," said the Major gently.

"No!"

"You can't hold on. You'll go, too." Sheppard's voice was lower, urgent. As scared as he was, he didn't want Rodney following him down to whatever end lie below.

The Major's body hung over the edge of a cliff; the ground couldn't be seen due to a pervading fog that clung to everything on this world, like a damp, cloying blanket. Doctor McKay's grip was the only thing separating him from an unknown drop.

"I can't let you die!"

" Rodney, you're slipping, I can feel it. Let go."

McKay shook his head desperately. "No! Give me your other hand. I can pull you up."

"Can't," replied Sheppard, "won't work."

McKay became aware of the scarlet stain spreading across the front of the Major's shirt, and how it ran down his loosely dangling arm, dripping off into the depths below. He tightened his grip on Sheppard's good arm trying to ignore the fact that he was inexorably sliding closer to the edge.

"Let go! It…it hurts like this." Sheppard didn't want to die, but he knew if McKay didn't release him, they'd both fall, and instead of one death, there'd be two.

The Major was slipping; McKay's hands, coated with a cold sweat, were losing their grip.

"God! John, no!"

Sheppard looked at McKay one last time with a sort of half smile, and then he was gone. McKay just lay, arms hanging over the edge, looking at the place his friend had been, and that was how Teyla and Ford found him a short while later.

Ford approached the prone body with trepidation; unsure of what was wrong with the Doctor. He could hear muffled noises, but didn't know what was going on.

"Doctor McKay?" he asked, approaching the figure, while motioning for Teyla to keep back, just in case.

McKay lifted his head, and turned to Ford, "Where the Hell were you!" he shouted.

Ford took a step back, uncertain for the reason behind McKay's outburst. "We were looking for you, we heard your call," he replied, puzzled, then looked around. "Where's Major Sheppard?"

McKay got unsteadily to his feet, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. "The Major," he spat, "Is down there."

He jerked one arm in the direction of the cliff edge.

"What? How?"

"He fell. I tried to hold on," his eyes drifted inward as the memory slid through him, unwelcome and painful, "I really did, but he was hurt, and I couldn't get both hands, and… he fell." He ended lamely.

Ford walked the short distance to the cliff edge and peered over. The thick white mist obscured what was below. He looked back, and McKay looked as white as the fog. "Sit down," he ordered the Doctor. He didn't need two people in need of medical help. "Teyla, get back to the gate; tell Doctor Weir we need mountain rescue equipment and -" he paused for a moment, looking at McKay and knowing he was hanging on every word, before continuing, "-Doctor Beckett."

Teyla nodded mutely, and took off back the way they'd come at a jog.

**Twenty-four hours earlier…**

"I don't want to go," said Sheppard, taking a bite of macaroni.

McKay sat his coffee cup down. "Why?" he asked bluntly.

Sheppard took a drink, washing the food down, and set his fork on the plate, giving McKay his full attention, because the man wasn't giving up. "Look, I understand you think this planet is some kind of Holy Grail of power, but Kavanagh disagrees with you, and for that matter, so does Zalenka." He lifted his fork again, "I'm not going."

"Fine," snapped McKay. He stood up, and grabbed his coffee mug, before stalking out of the mess hall.

Sheppard watched him retreat, and had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't over by a long shot.

**Present time: Atlantis…**

"Doctor Beckett!"

Carson looked away from the latest test results on the mice he'd been working with. "Aye, what is it?" he asked the nurse standing in his doorway. She looked upset.

"Doctor Weir said there's been an accident," she said. "Major Sheppard fell -"

"Where?" he snapped, standing and letting the paper fall.

"On the planet! There was an accident, and they don't know how badly injured he is, or anything. She needs you to gather what you'll need, and go with the rescue team."

"Bloody hell," he swore, grabbing his coat, already shouting orders, "Get the portable med-kit, backboard -"

They faded through the door, rushing off to try and save Sheppard's life…

**Twenty-two hours earlier…**

"John," called Elizabeth, as he walked through the command deck. "Could I see you for a moment?"

Sheppard figured he didn't have much of a choice, so he nodded, and followed her in to her office. "What's up?" he asked.

"Rodney said you wouldn't consider going to P58-3X4," said Elizabeth, slipping into her chair.

Sheppard folded his arms, standing beside her desk. He should've known. "Did he tell you why?"

"That you don't believe him," she said. "Yes."

"Did he also tell you that other members of his own science team disagree with his conclusions of the planet?" Sheppard asked evenly.

"Yes, he did," she replied. "John, this is Rodney. How many times has he been wrong? Don't we owe it to him to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

Sheppard wondered at the little song and dance they were doing. Elizabeth could order him to take McKay, but she wasn't. For whatever reason, both Weir and McKay wanted him to agree to this mission on his own.

He sighed. She had a point. McKay had saved their lives about as often as he'd dropped their asses into the fire. Maybe he should check it out –

"Alright, fine," he said, unfolding his arms and moving to the door. "But only a day, we've got a lot going on, including trying to find a good alpha site."

Elizabeth smiled, "Thank you. I'll tell Rodney," she looked at her watch. "Two hours?"

Sheppard hesitated at the exit, "Give me four. I've got to finish a military matter before I can get ready for this mission."

"Four then," she agreed.

Sheppard headed out. He had some heads to roll –

**Present Time: Atlantis Gateroom…**

Elizabeth walked in front of the gathered team, looking at each one of the men and women directly. "All we know is that over an hour ago, Major Sheppard fell off a cliff," she clasped her hands in front of her hips. "Due to the fog, we don't know how far, or where he landed."

The faces regarded her soberly. One young Sergeant asked, "Has there been any contact with the Major since he fell?"

Elizabeth shook her head saying, "No." She took a deep breath. "You are the best in your respective fields. Major Sheppard's life could not be in better hands. Good luck, and be safe," she said.

She headed towards the stairs, and nodded to Peter to activate the gate. She jogged up the stairs, and watched as the rescue team filed into the event horizon, saying a silent prayer that Sheppard was still alive –

**Twenty Hours Earlier…**

Two airmen stood, lined up at attention. Sheppard stood a few feet in front, and regarded them sternly.

"Which one of you started it?" he asked.

The airmen stared at the wall ahead, stony and silent.

Sheppard frowned, and walked forward, getting just in front of the pair. "Your little brawl destroyed two tables, an entire meals worth of food for the entire expedition, and made a fool out of our reputation!" he snarled. "We are military men, not common thugs, looking for a barroom brawl!"

"Yes, Sir!" they answered in unison.

"Now," he lowered his voice and continued on dangerously, "I want an explanation for this, and I want one yesterday!"

One of the airmen spoke up hesitatingly, "Sir-"

"Out with it!" roared Sheppard.

"They started it, Sir," he finished, red-faced.

Astounded, Sheppard echoed, "They started it?"

"Yes, Sir!" agreed the other airman.

Sheppard stood back, flummoxed. Finally, gathering himself, he said, "I don't care who started it, if I ever-" he thrust an angry finger at both men "- hear of something like this again, you'll both be on permanent mess duty!" he thundered. "As it is, you've earned a month, and that better be the best damn food I've ever tasted for the entire month!" He gave one last imposing glare, before snapping, "Dismissed!"

The subdued men filed out. Once they had left the room, the angry face dissolved into a broad grin. He'd heard what happened. The civilians and military factions could disagree strongly on the approach in handling issues that arose. A particular issue had been causing a great deal of conflict.

Apparently, a rec room of some sort had been discovered. The scientists wanted to spend time studying what each item was for; the military guys wanted to get hands on training. That's the problem with the two groups. Scientists liked to observe, and the military guys wanted to get in and get dirty.

A conversation in the mess hall yesterday had degenerated into a mud-slinging fest, and he'd already known the scientists in the room _had_ started it. Despite that, he couldn't have his men going around without restraint; it wasn't good for morale, and it wasn't behavior to encourage.

Speaking of which, he had his own scientist that had his ire at the moment, and he only had two hours to get ready. He could only hope the mission would be easy and quick –

**Present Time: P58-3X4…**

"Major!" shouted McKay. His voice was hoarse, but he continued trying to get any kind of contact with Sheppard. "John, can you hear me?"

"Stop it, McKay," said Ford. "He can't hear you."

McKay glared at the young Lieutenant. "How do you know? Maybe he can hear, and can't reply," he said, stubbornly refusing to believe the worst. "Maybe it's the only thing keeping him hanging on -"

Ford looked like he'd lost his best friend; he shook his head tiredly. He knew the odds weren't good for the Major. He hadn't known what to think of Sheppard when they'd first met. Ford was a marine, and following orders without question was a cornerstone of a Marine's soul. Colonel Sumner had thought Sheppard a loose canon; no respect for orders, and thereby Sumner hadn't had much for the Major.

It had only taken that first trip out the gate for Ford to learn differently. Orders weren't everything, and sometimes a soldier was more than a sum of marks in a record. Sheppard had saved his life. He'd said thanks, and Sheppard had told him not to make a habit out of it. That was Sheppard…

He peered over the edge of the cliff. Visibility was still limited. He hoped he'd have the chance to tell Sheppard that the habit thing went two ways –

**Eighteen hours earlier…**

"Is your team ready?" asked Elizabeth from the command deck.

Sheppard surveyed McKay, Teyla and Ford. All three nodded, McKay impatiently. "That would be an affirmative," said the Major.

She nodded towards Peter, before looking back at the four standing off to the side. "Good luck, bring us home some power, Rodney," she said, smiling. She always sent a team off with a warm smile, because she was fast learning you never knew what would return through the gate. Injured, dead…fighting to come home.

Sheppard waved for his team to move out. He stepped through –

**Present Time: P58-3X4…**

**- **Beckett and the rescue team stepped out the other side, seeing a waiting Teyla standing by the DHD, her body tight with tension.

"Hurry," she called, relieved they'd finally arrived. She turned towards the trail, and started off at a quick pace, calling over her shoulder, "This way!"

McKay was sitting by the edge of the cliff, his knees drawn up against his chest. He shouldn't have pushed for Sheppard to come here. He closed his eyes; it felt like they'd been waiting forever for the rescue team to arrive. Where were they?

As an answer to a prayer, the rustle of clothing and backpacks, and the stomping of feet, alerted Ford and McKay to their arrival, Teyla leading the way.

McKay unfurled his legs, and leapt up, "What took you so long?" he snapped.

"We had to gather our gear, Doctor McKay," reminded the leading airman. "Have you heard anything new?"

Ford stepped out of the shadow of an overhanging tree. "Nothing. Either his radio is broken, or-"

"He's unable to communicate," finished McKay, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

**Ten hours earlier: on P58-3X4… **

"We're going in circles, McKay," said Sheppard. He held his P90 against his chest, and surveyed the rocky trail up the mountain. "We've been here before."

"It's here," insisted McKay. "Look!" he shoved the device in front of Sheppard, and pointed to a blip that faded in and out, like a heartbeat recorded on a screen.

Sheppard sighed. They'd been walking for hours, and no matter where they went, that power signal always moved with them.

Ford looked behind them, and said, "Sir, maybe Teyla and I can go back the way we came, see if we can head this thing off?"

Sheppard considered their options. If the power signal was coming from something mobile, or elusive; splitting up might help in pinning it down. "Radio contact every hour, and be careful," he warned. "We don't know if it's being moved by someone, or something," he stressed.

Ford nodded, and he and Teyla turned and headed back on a path they'd walked before.

McKay caught Sheppard looking at him. "It's here!" he said defensively.

"Uh huh," said Sheppard. "Lead the way, McDuff -"

**Present Time: P58-3X4…**

"He's here," said McKay. "He fell right here." He pointed the scuff marks in the dirt where he'd lain before, holding on to Sheppard.

One of the airmen started pulling out rope, and climbing gear. "Gary, get me that pinion, and hook this up to the tree," he ordered.

Gary worked fast, and it wasn't more than a minute before the harness was secured, and the other soldier ready to start his descent. They didn't know how far down the Major had fallen. They could only hope it wasn't too far.

"I want to go with you," said McKay.

"No can do, Doctor McKay," the airman said. He already had his feet over the edge, and was preparing to begin rappelling down. "You're not certified, and no offense, but we don't need to rescue two people."

McKay wanted to argue, but he knew the man was right. He wanted to do something. A hand on his shoulder caused him to look back.

Carson said, "You can help me, Rodney. I need to get my stuff ready."

McKay nodded numbly. He needed to keep busy –

**Two hours earlier: P58-3X4…**

"This is ridiculous," said Sheppard, doing a half turn and letting his hand fall against his thigh in disgust. "We've been walking for hours, hardly no breaks; McKay, there's nothing here!"

McKay didn't know what was going on. He tapped the device, thinking maybe it was faulty, but he'd checked it before they'd left. "I don't know what happened? It was here!" he said.

Sheppard saw the crestfallen look on McKay's face, and knew the scientist had hoped he'd found something that could help. Something that could potentially solve some of the problems they had in Atlantis.

"Look, maybe it doesn't want to be found," he offered. "We've found things out here that have other plans that our own, you know that."

McKay nodded. "But if it's sentient-that's even more reason to find it."

"Not in my book," insisted Sheppard. They'd had one to many run-ins with sentient species. The fog people had almost killed them, albeit reluctantly.

"Good point," conceded McKay. "Still -" he trailed off, his attention pulled in the direction of a sound that had begun to impinge upon his consciousness. "Did you hear that?" he asked Sheppard.

"McKay -" called Sheppard.

Rodney turned around. Sheppard had been behind him, looking out the other way, and now McKay could see his eyes were fixed in front of him. Rodney followed Sheppard's gaze, and exclaimed, "What is it?"

"I think we found your power source."

McKay tilted his body sideways, till his line of sight wasn't blocked by Sheppard's body, and felt his eyes widen. Hovering in the air was some kind of circular drone about shoulder-height off the ground.

"Tell me this thing is harmless," gritted Sheppard, trying to stay still.

"It's the power source," confirmed McKay, looking at the display, before looking back at the gun-metal gray machine that wasn't much bigger than a volleyball. "I don't know if it's harmless," he said.

The drone emitted a high-pitched whine, and before either man could register what it meant, an impact sent Sheppard reeling backwards.

McKay did the only thing he knew to do. He shot it – and he kept shooting, until it fell, lifeless to the ground. He spun, looking for Sheppard. "Major!" he called, not seeing the man; but he saw blood.

He scrabbled to the edge, and looked down, afraid of what he'd see. Sheppard was holding on with one hand, his other hanging uselessly down by his side. Pain and fear etched into his face.

He lost his grip –

**Present Time: P58-3X4…**

Hawkins pushed off from the face of the cliff, and continued his descent. He'd gone into the dense layer of fog, and switched his headlamp on as he made his way slowly down. He couldn't rush now. The Major could by lying on an outcropping to either side, and hurrying could mean the mistake of passing him by.

The mist was cool, and damp. The farther down he went without finding the Major, increased the odds that this would be a recovery mission, and not a rescue. He played out more line, and pushed off again –

**Seventy-Five minutes earlier: on P58-3X4…**

McKay slapped his earpiece, running, and lunging for Sheppard even as he did so. "Ford, I need your help!" he shouted.

He felt his hand hit against Sheppard's forearm, and he closed his fingers around the skin, holding on as hard as he could. He could feel Sheppard's weight, already in the motion of falling, jolt his shoulder so hard he thought it'd pulled the joint out of the socket.

"Major!" he shouted. "Hold on!"

Sheppard was trying, but he couldn't gain any purchase with his feet. They slid uselessly against the sheer face of the cliff. His fingers couldn't grab onto McKay's arm because of the position, and his other arm wasn't working.

The machine had hit him with some kind of stunning bullet, and his entire arm, and left side had gone numb, blood dripping out steadily. He blinked, startled by the sudden brightness of the sky.

He could feel McKay's shoulder giving; knew the man couldn't get him up on his own.

"Let go -"

**Present Time: P58-3X4…**

"- Don't let go!" shouted Hawkins. He didn't know if Sheppard could hear him or not, but he'd found him!

The Major was lying on a thin shelf, just under his feet. Hawkins could see Sheppard's fingers on his right hand were curled tightly around the edge, his left side tucked in against the cliff face, and he was face down.

Sheppard didn't show any sign of hearing his call, leading Hawkins to think he'd passed out holding on like he was. This was going to be tricky.

"I've got him!" he shouted into the radio, smiling despite the fact that this wasn't going to be an easy rescue. He managed to work his way down beside the Major's head, and tentatively felt for a pulse. It beat underneath his fingers, and he grinned widely. "He's alive!"

Up at the top, McKay echoed the cry. "He's alive!" He turned to Beckett, and grabbed the doctor's jacket, dancing them around in a circle. "Did you hear that? He's alive!"

Carson grinned, along with the others. He gently pulled Rodney's hands off himself, and said, "I heard, Rodney. I heard."

* * *

Sheppard opened his eyes, and blinked. He was looking up at the sky, and his body rocked back and forth. He closed them again, and reopened, disorientated. A face peered over him. 

"Hawkins?" he croaked. "Didn't I put you on KP duty?"

The airman smiled, his face dirty from the loose soil and sweat from his climb. "You did, Sir," he answered. "But I had something to do first."

"Oh," answered Sheppard. "– where's McKay?" His voice was weak, and tired.

Rodney leaned over him, and Sheppard tried to crane his neck to look at him better. "Where am I?" he asked, confused. "And why am I moving?"

"You had a fall," said McKay. His face was a mixture of sadness and relief. "But you're going to be okay," he assured him.

Sheppard nodded imperceptibly. "Thanks," he whispered, his eyes drifting shut.

"You're welcome," McKay replied, noticing that Sheppard probably didn't hear him. "Just don't make a habit of it -"

Following behind, Ford smiled at the choice of words.

**Epilogue…**

Sheppard was lying in the infirmary, his body cocooned in a blanket. He felt the thick bandage on his shoulder, but didn't feel any pain. He was alive, and that alone was a small miracle. He'd thought he was a goner.

He turned his head, and noticed the sleeping figure of McKay sitting propped in a chair. McKay looked haggard, shadows under his eyes, and his right arm was in a sling. What'd happened to McKay?

Beckett walked in, and noticing Sheppard was awake, came over. "How do you feel, Major?"

Sheppard pointed to the water with his right hand; Beckett brought it over and helped him take a sip. "Thanks," said Sheppard. "Feel good," he answered. "What happened to him?" He pointed to McKay.

"You," said Beckett. At Sheppard's confused look, he explained, "When he was holding on to you, it pulled his muscles, and his joint. Not quite a dislocation, but pretty close."

"Oh," said Sheppard quietly. "Will he be all right?"

"Aye," Carson confirmed. "Both of you. And both of you need rest," he said pointedly.

"The drone -"

"Destroyed," Beckett said. "McKay's aim is getting better."

That caused a small laugh from Sheppard, who then grimaced from the pain it caused in his arm. Beckett frowned, "Let that be a lesson, stay still and let your body heal."

Sheppard nodded; sleeping sounded good. He watched as Beckett withdrew a syringe. At Sheppard's questioning look, he explained, "A wee bit of pain killer to top you off. Get some rest," he said, sliding the needle into the socket on the tubing, and emptying the contents. He withdrew it, and gave the bag a small shake, before leaving the drowsy man to rest.

Before he was totally under, he heard McKay shift in his seat. "Sorry," he slurred in McKay's direction, pointing a clumsy finger towards the sling.

McKay rubbed a weary hand across his face. He slid closer, and with his good hand, grabbed Sheppard's. "I'm maimed for life," he joked.

"I hope your ambi…dext…rous," Sheppard drawled, finally losing the battle to stay awake.

McKay set Sheppard's hand down on the bed gently. He'd been waiting for hours for the man to wake up, just so he could see for himself that Sheppard would recover. There wasn't anyone in the room, so McKay leaned in, and whispered, "I didn't let go, Sheppard." He stood, and straightened. "I'll never let go -"

THE END.


End file.
